The last dance
by Ditesco-Mori
Summary: Auron muses whilst he watches Yuna dance for what will be his last time...


**Disclaimer: Final Fantasy X and related characters are property of Square Enix.**  


~*~*

  
I see her dancing with the grace of an angel, so devoted, focused on the movements she unleashes. A fallen angel caught in a battlefield, she should not be dancing, she should not be fighting, she should not feel overwhelmed like she is now.  
  
Her age, her brittle beauty, the way her wrist twists, the way her ankle entwines are just the bitter reminder that make me think the worst is yet to come.  
  
Him, wild kid, the vivid image of me years ago. Someone that had refused the reality of the summoner and Spira's egocentric traditions, someone that wanted to change these, change the fate of the people he loves the most. But the difference was that, he had managed to radically change the cogs of fate, sacrificing himself for the people he had just met. It was weird, he hadn't shared his life with them, and he felt closer to them like he never felt with the ones that saw him born.  
  
About us the remains of a forgotten city, an illusion, a reverie, mock at us, they cry the farewell I must bid. Or is it just that they cry with me? A silent cry. Long before I have been tagged as the silent member, the silent and "legendary guardian" everyone seems to admire, and above all this, no one seems to remember what I am made of. I, too, had witnessed the loss of not only one dear friend... how should I say goodbye to six now?  
  
Her dancing is interrupted by something, eyes fall on me, without even bothering to look about, I feel the surprise, the reproaches everyone hides, not daring to speak their mind.  
  
It is not a surprise.  
  
My eyes sail over to the summoner, her uneven eyes are ready to unbridle crystal pearls, her mouth remained open, small, cut sounds sourcing from it.  
  
"Go on." I hear myself asking, unpleased by the smoothness my words hold. Was this the way everyone perceived me? It was too late to mend my mistakes.  
  
"But..." Her words melt mine, making impossible my walk forward, a walk I had previously started while I tried to shook the glances off me, a walk that was set off by a harmless hit of my wrist that impacted on the Ronso's stouted chest, a walk that seemed now eternal.  
  
My lips curl into a smile, shaded over the scarlet mask that covers the lower half of my face, diverting my eyes from the night lit city over to the people that lay behind me. It was time for me to say goodbye, time was my enemy.  
  
Quickly and silently, I apologize to Rikku, I congratulate Kimahri, I pay my respect towards Lulu, I remind Wakka of his kindhearted feelings, I thank Tidus for allowing me to take part in his story, and lastly, I bow before the determination of the daughter of Braska.  
  
She follows my pledge, her dancing is resumed with the last poised set of steps that drive away my soul, my entity leaving behind my mind and my reflections, until I fall in a state of murkiness.  
  
I unveiled my eyes, letting them glide about. An amberish color hits them wildly, trinketed by hues of green and red that move about. Marvellous gasoline-rainbows. My mind helps me in my attempt of trying to recollect what happened, achieving it perfectly with a show of savage images of my last odyssey.  
  
"Auron... are you up yet?" A voice welcomes me, finding it awfully familiar.  
  
"He's. Just let 'im rest." A rasped voice follows the first one.  
  
"I must admit, I was afraid you might not find the way, I feared you might have gotten lost."  
  
"Ah, Braska drop it. It is not like someone can get lost in this friggin' place."  
  
At the name, my eyes search frantically about, locking over to a couple of men that stare at me. One of them wore a High-Summoner's gown, adorned with blue and red, while a bonnet was attached to the head, an exquisite combination, nothing compared to the rudeness the second speaker uniformed, cloth was swirled over on his waist, a red bandana circled his face up to the point of covering it partially. Scars kissing the tanned flesh. This wasn't the thing that outstood the most. There was an opal tattoo was painted on his chest, the sign of the sport of his devotion.  
  
"Jecht, Braska."  
  
"Pft, at least you remember our names."  
  
"Now, Jecht, let him speak, I am sure that is what he desires, right Auron? But, before you do so my dear friend, I must thank you... you kept your promise, you have guarded my daughter well."  
  
"Uh... ditto!"  
  
I just nod, another smile rising up over on my lips while I heard them, Jecht's remarks, Braska's lilting voice, and for the first time since I can ever remember, I felt this was my place.  
  
~*~*  
  
Weee! I hope you liked it ^_^. Anyway, review, pretty please?


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